12: möbius strip
Kate cried and cried, she couldn't help it. Gut-wrenching sobs surged from deep within her body, left her trembling, and she clung to him, her fingers clawed into his shoulders. Castle wrapped his arms around her, tight pressure encircling her ribs and waist as he folded her in the strength of his embrace. Her body heaved and quaked, and she sank against his chest like a dead weight when her legs refused to hold her upright.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, shhhh, Beckett, it's alright, everything's gonna be okay." Castle murmured assurances into her ear; strings of words of which Kate could barely make sense. Yet she was aware of him - the width of his broad torso pressed to hers, the soothing rhythm of his breathing; the familiar resonance of his voice and the comfort of his scent. This was her life again, her Rick, and yet the loss of her mother loomed large.
She wailed like a wounded animal, lost and pained and drowning in a sea of emotions the depths of which she had suppressed for a week. Relief and grief crashed through her, roiling out of her in hiccupped waves, leaving her gasping for air.
"Beckett, hey come on, breathe." Gradually his directions filtered through to her, the cadence of his deep, focused breathing and the calming rise and fall of his chest carrying her into awareness. He stroked a hand up her back and to her neck; his fingers trailed through her hair, then wandered back the same path, his other arm clamped tight around her waist.
"Kate, breathe for me, breathe-"
She sucked in a shaky breath. Her lungs expanded with oxygen; her exhale stuttered on its way out.
"That's better," he murmured, curling his fingers around the back of her neck. "Just breathe." He was breathing with her, in and out. The violent storm of emotion wound down at last, leaving her completely spent. She hung in his arms, weakened and limp; she had no energy left in her to move, or stand on her own feet, or lift her head from the comforting curve of his neck. She was so tired.
"Can I stay with you?" Her words were muffled by the warm skin of his neck.
"Of course." He nodded; Kate felt the motion against the top of her head. "The guest room is-"
"No." She curled her fingers into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, dragged herself against his chest, lifting her head to look up into his eyes. Her voice was raw from the incessant crying spell, barely above a whisper.
"No, Rick. I want to stay. With you."
Kate wasn't sure that she had ever been this tired.
She must have; she had recovered from a gunshot wound and invasive surgery; she remembered the days and weeks she had spent in wretched agony. Yet this level of exhaustion was something else entirely, like lead weights attached to every muscle, weighing her down. She scoffed at herself. Multi-universe travel must do that to a person, she supposed.
Castle had handed her a large t-shirt and boxers for her to sleep in, and she had taken the clothes into the bathroom with her. She peeled off her sweater and bra, pushed the jeans down her legs, barely had enough strength left to lift her feet out of the pants. Naked, she paused, staring at herself in the mirror. Her fingers shook as she lifted them to the space between her breasts. She stroked across her sternum where the mottled bullet scar prominently sat once again. It felt as it had before – before this week, before this other world – bumps and divots of rough-hewn skin beneath the whorls of her index finger. She started swaying, had to grab on to the bathroom counter to remain upright. Kate breathed through the vertigo. Her eyes were burning; her eyelids kept dropping, heavy with fatigue. She quickly brushed her teeth, then slid the soft cotton shirt over her head. It fell to mid-thigh, and smelled like him. She didn't bother with the boxers.
Kate stumbled back into his bedroom, her legs dragging, as if her knees might buckle with every step.
Castle stood by the side of the bed, watching her move toward the bed, unable to hide the confusion in his eyes, the worry that kept him rigid and uneasy.
"I'm okay," she said, answering the question that had remained unasked. Her voice sounded like layers of her vocal cords had been worn off with sandpaper.
"What happened, Kate?" His eyes traveled down the length of her body, then back to her face. Where she would have expected a spark of longing, she noticed only concern in his gaze. She had no energy left; her legs gave out with her next step, and then Castle was in front of her, catching her against him. She sank to his chest, her ear coming to rest over the steady beat of his heart. She slid her arms around him, matched her breathing to the rhythm of his heart, in for three, out for three.
"Can I tell you tomorrow?" She lifted her head, looked up at him. "I promise I will, it's just… I'm so tired."
He nodded. "Get some rest," he murmured, guiding her to the edge of the bed. She toppled onto his mattress, barely managed to crawl under the covers. He tucked the comforter around her and she sank into the pillow like a rock that sinks under water, folded under by the soft sheets.
"Come 'ere," she mumbled, the plea barely comprehensible with the weight of her fatigue. Yet he must have heard just the same, because the mattress dipped, and Castle climbed into his bed beside her. She didn't think or hesitate; she coiled herself around him, slung an arm over his chest and curled a leg around his thigh. Her ear came to rest over his sternum where she could listen to his heartbeat pound its reassuring rhythm against his ribs. Kate clung to him, couldn't help it, holding on so that he couldn't disappear, so that she wouldn't again wake up to his absence.
"Don' leave." Her fingers tightened around his ribcage. "Stay wi' me."
"Always," he whispered, but maybe she was already dreaming.
Kate woke slowly, like she was climbing up from deep sedation, her body heavy and immovable, mouth parched, her eyelids slow to lift. His scent clung to the pillow beneath her cheek and she nestled her nose against the fabric, inhaling with relief. Castle.
It hadn't been a dream; she had made it back last night. Back to him.
Rain pattered against the windowpane, soft but persistent. Grey light pearled through the curtains into his bedroom. Awareness grew in stages; the cadence of his breathing that filled the room, the warmth of his body next to her in this bed, the sense of his presence that surrounded her.
Kate rolled onto her side, blinked open her eyes. Castle sat on his side of the bed, his back against the headboard and a book opened against his perched knees. Yet his eyes were on her. Kate pillowed her cheek against her hands, tucked her legs high. Her knees brushed the side of his hip, and the warmth of him startled her, made her heart skip a beat. A smile blossomed across his face, warm and tender, the edges of concern carefully held at bay.
"Hey," he said. His hand reached for her, as if to brush the hair from her forehead or cradle her cheek, but then he dropped it to the space between them. Kate yearned for every touch he withheld.
"Hey." Her voice was hoarse, barely functioning. "Time is it?" She still felt sleep-drunk and a little out of it.
"One in the afternoon," he replied. "You slept almost twelve hours." He couldn't hide the worry that crept into his voice and shone in the blue of his eyes.
"Yeah, I-" Kate had to clear her throat to get the words out. "Was exhausted."
"You want some coffee?" He nodded his head toward the nightstand. "I made you some earlier." Her eyes followed his gaze to the two coffee cups sitting side by side. "But it's gone cold."
"Yeah," she said. "That'd be nice." Kate felt the smile crest across her face, the sense of relief that washed through her at the simple act. He'd made her coffee. While she slept in his bed. Her heart fluttered, her stomach flaring with nervous energy.
"Okay." He nodded, yet neither of them moved. His eyes held hers and she ached to wrap herself against the strength of his body, just to hold on. To cling to the tangible reminder that she was truly here, with him. It rushed through her like a current, zapping through her blood, awakening all her senses. She was back, with him, after the seemingly endless days that had been filled with the persistent dread that she would never be able to return to her world, that she might never see him again. Her Castle, Rick. The man who had captured her heart while she wasn't looking, and now no one would ever compare. There was no one like him. She gripped her fists into the fabric of his shirt, dragged herself up against him. Need coalesced inside her, a yearning so strong she could barely breathe. She had missed him so much, and she had promised herself to stop missing her opportunities.
Kate draped her body over his, aware of the tantalizing warmth that emanated from his skin, of the rise of his chest and the thunder of his heartbeat, of the caress of his breath and the tension he held in his muscles.
His eyes went wide, his irises darkening as his mouth fell open in surprise.
"Kate," he sighed. Her name sounded like hope and trust and a promise rolled into the whisper of his voice.
She leaned in, and took her leap of faith.
She kissed him.
His lips were soft beneath hers, smooth and supple as he opened for her. She tasted him, her tongue tentative and teasing over his. It was a slow, exalting kiss, sweet with yearning. His fingers curled into her hair, the other hand trembling down her spine, and she arched into his touch, clinging to his shirt, unable to let go. Tears welled up at her eyes, the anxiety and yearning and the abject loneliness she'd drowned in all week pouring from her. His thumbs brushed the tears off her cheeks, and their lips parted.
"You okay?" Rick soothed his fingers across her forehead, tangling them into her hair, and she closed her eyes, leaned her cheek into his touch. The fist she had felt around her stomach all week finally loosened and released, relief rushing through her, pushing from her lips in a burst of breath.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
She didn't know where to start. She took him in, the gentleness in his gaze and the confusion he couldn't quite hide. She saw his patience for her reflected in his eyes, the way he'd learned to wait for her, giving her the time she needed. Her heart thudded. She opened her lips but no words would come, her throat cinched tight. The whole week rushed past her in an onslaught of moments, an avalanche of emotions that threatened to bury her - how lost she had been, how desolate; the joy and the pain of seeing her mother again and… Castle.
"I just missed you," she sobbed at last, the confession bursting from her with no further thought. The intensity of every feeling cascaded through her, the reality of what her life would be like without him. Her eyes welled with a fresh bout of tears and her fingers dug into his shirt, gripping the fabric in her fist, clinging to it. She wanted to bury her face against his chest, inhale his scent, so familiar to her, so reassuring and safe. "I missed you so much."
"Miss me?" He barked out a laugh but it was a joyless sound, edged with confusion and concern. "Kate, you've seen me all week."
"What?" Her heart started hammering.
"Yeah. The Henderson case. We wrapped it up yesterday. I left the precinct around seven; you stayed to finish the paperwork."
There was a roaring sound in her ears. Her blood was pounding, rushing with the amorphous beats of her heart; all air squeezed from her lungs. That- That had been last week, the Friday that had catapulted her into some other world, not yesterday, not for her! There had been a whole week-
Hadn't there been?
"So it… It never happened?" She croaked. Her mind was racing. This entire week…? And… and her mom? Kate gasped for breath, couldn't seem to get enough air into her lungs. How was this possible, how-?
She felt pressure against her chest, strong calming pressure over her sternum and the murmur of his voice. "Kate. Breathe, Kate."
She breathed, in for three, then out, slowly blinked open her eyes. Rick had his palm pressed between her breasts, right above her scar. Warmth radiated from his touch. His eyes were watching her closely, concern edging a crease between his eyebrows.
He slid down in the bed, rolled them both so that he was facing her across the pillow, his hand still resting over her sternum. Her breathing gradually slowed, the rush of her blood subsiding to a dull throb.
His other hand curved around her neck, the warmth of his palm pressed to the throbbing vein in her neck, and his thumb stroking along her cheekbone. "Tell me what happened, Kate. Tell me your story."
Her breathing slowed, her heart calmer with the tangible awareness of his presence, his reassuring touch. She found that it helped, to think of it as a story. Maybe that was all it had been, a story, a wild improbable dream. She found his gaze, focused on his eyes, the blue so pronounced in the grey hazy daylight.
"You'll think I'm crazy."
"Have you met me?"
It made her chuckle, silly for even voicing the thought. Because of course he was right, and she knew it. She had trusted it even in, well, wherever she had been this past week. Kate had entrusted the other Castle in that other world with her crazy secret because she had known, with intuitive, unwavering certainty that he would give weight to the improbable; he would listen and be intrigued and he would believe, even when all logic should tell him otherwise.
Kate pressed her palm to his atop her chest, her fingers sliding in the gaps between his, slotting together. She focused on his warmth, his touch, and the cadence of his breathing, let it fortify her, calm her senses.
She started with the Subway ride, and how she had found herself in a world where nothing was as she knew it to be, and where her alter ego led a completely different life. Haltingly at first, Kate let herself drift through the recollections, let the story pour from her mind, purging it from her soul. She recounted finding her mother alive and well at her parents' house; the job at NYU, the break-up with Josh, and encountering the case in that other universe. How alone and confused she had been, drifting through that world, and about the bewildering gift of time to spend with her mother.
And she told him about him, the other Rick, and the kind of life he led. About his writing, and Ryan, and Gina, and how he had been there for Kate when she had sought him out, had been the friend she needed, her sole support, her strength. She didn't leave anything out, sharing her story of the days and hours and moments until she was able to return, showing up at his doorstep and finding herself back in her own world.
Castle remained silent throughout most of her tale. He didn't interrupt, though she could tell he had comments, thoughts, questions. She could sense his attention in the pattern of his breathing and the movement of his eyes; the way he'd press his lips together, and squeeze her fingers, or knit his eyebrows into a frown. Sometimes he swiped his thumb beneath her eye, catching the stray tears that silently rolled down her cheeks when she told him about saying goodbye to her mother.
He was quiet for long moments after she had finished her story.
Somehow they had migrated closer together while she was sharing what had happened to her. His fingers were clasped around hers, their hands forming a knot between them on the sheets. She was aware of his knees pressing against hers, and the warmth of his body so close.
"Kate. Wow, that's-" His words trailed off.
"Yeah," she sighed, drained of words and thought now that the story had been freed. It was surreal – surreal to be back, to find herself this close to him, curled in his bed, surreal to have lived through it all.
Or not.
"Except that it wasn't real," Kate added, still felt a lump in her throat at the realization, a tightening of her gut. She would've expected she'd feel relieved… "Just a dream, I guess."
"Maybe not," Castle said. "Time isn't necessarily linear, when you're traveling to parallel universes."
A week ago she would've dismissed such a comment as one of Castle's crazy theories. Now, it didn't seem so crazy. Was it really possible? Had she truly met her mother, alive and thriving in a world where she was never shot?
"Tell me about your mom," Castle asked, as if he could read her mind. A bout of wistful longing unspooled within her at the memories and the mix of ache and joy must've shown on her face because Rick squeezed her hand encouragingly.
"She was amazing, Castle. A little older, but beautiful and lively. Just like I remembered her. She had such a vibrancy to her, you know? When she smiled it could light up your whole world."
"Like mother, like daughter."
She felt the warmth skate into her cheeks at his comment, and her eyes flicked to his, held his gaze. He loosened a hand from around hers, reaching up to cradle her cheek, and she tilted her face into his touch.
"I'm so sorry, Kate," he murmured, and she closed her eyes, swallowed around the knot in her throat. He didn't have to say anything more; she knew everything he meant to express with those words.
"It's okay," she whispered. "I was able to see her again. And I was able to say goodbye, this time." Her throat tightened at the thought, her voice sounding strangled, but she meant it, felt it in every part of her. Whatever it was that had happened to her, however bewildering it had been, it had also been a gift. To see her mom again, to hear her voice and listen to her smart thoughts, and to feel her comforting touch. She would treasure the memories forever.
"Did you think about staying? In that world, where your mother was?"
The question sounded strained from his lips, and Kate put her hand atop his over her cheek, her fingers tangling with his. "I thought about it," she admitted.
"So why did you come back?"
She drew her knee over his thigh, tugged herself closer into him.
It had been a whole amalgamation of reasons, every moment she had lived through culminating in the realization that she couldn't, shouldn't continue to live a life that wasn't hers. As much as it had hurt to accept, and to say her final goodbye to her mom, it hadn't been her life to live. Yet the most prevalent reason was right here, entwined with her in his bed. She recognized what she had found in that other world – the clarity she had gained about what mattered to her, and why – and who. To stride toward her future instead of living in her past. And she had promised herself to do something about it, to be brave. To not let her moments pass her by, lest they disappear forever.
"Because of you, Castle." Kate cradled his head between her hands, would've laughed at the slack-jawed surprise on his face if it weren't for the surge of nerves that quivered inside her, and the racing of her heart.
"I came back for you."
"Kate-"
"You were the first person I thought of when I found myself lost and stranded in a world I didn't understand. You are the person I seek when all there is around me is chaos. I want your thoughts and ideas, your strength, your optimism, your steady presence beside me. Without you, I am lost. And I don't want to be lost anymore."
She brushed her thumbs along his cheekbones, and his hand tightened against her back, pressing her against his body. His breathing came quick, the warmth of his exhales caressing her face when she leaned her forehead to his.
"You found me when I didn't even know I needed finding. And I don't want to live any life without you."
Anticipation flared between them, a tangible electricity that made her skin tingle, and her heart flutter in her chest. She was overwhelmed with awareness, dazed by the blood pounding through her veins, rushing in her ears, tingling down to her fingertips; by his scent and his warmth, the breadth of his chest, the width of his hips cradled between her thighs.
"Rick." She rocked over him, couldn't help it, his name on her lips a sigh of plea and longing and hunger. "I just want you."
He swallowed, lips falling open, and she ran a fingertip down his neck, over the peak of his Adam's apple, and to the pulse point where his blood pounded beneath the whorl of her fingertip. His eyelids fluttered. One heartbeat, two.
He surged for her, his mouth meeting hers and Kate moaned at the touch of his lips, the breath rushing from her chest as desire starburst within her. He reached for her, lips and tongue and the edge of his teeth, his palm pressed to the low of her back, holding her snug against the thrum of his body. All of her longed for him; she felt herself blooming open under his vital touch, like a flower that thrived under the fierce sunlight, welcoming its life-affirming heat with an eruption of color.
His fingers gripped into her hair and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her body rocking over his, a coil of need unspooling through her insides, hot and fast and delirious. She was soaring, yearning for him, for his kiss and his touch and the heavy heat of his body consuming her. Kate clawed at his back, gripping the fabric of his shirt to draw it up, up, up, desperate for the warmth of his skin when he gentled their kiss.
Their lips parted and her eyes fluttered open, meeting his. She felt felled by the intensity of his gaze.
"I love you, Kate."
He spoke the words with such calm conviction, such absolute certainty that her heart soared, the simple happiness of it rushing over her like a wave, limning her eyes with a sheen of tears. She hadn't realized how desperately she had needed to hear these words, how she had ached for their truth when for an interminable week she'd had to face a reality where Rick Castle didn't love her.
She took him in, her eyes traveling his face that had become so familiar to her. Those beautiful blue eyes that looked at her with such warmth and admiration that it stole her breath. The unruly strands of his hair, soft against her fingertips. The edge of his jawbone and the dimple in his chin. She stroked her thumb along his bottom lip, and the apple of his cheek.
"I love you too."
It tasted like freedom, speaking the truth she had held secret within her for so long, when she'd been afraid to see it, to admit it, to live it.
She was no longer afraid to live it.
He smiled. His lips stretched wide, eyes creased, his whole face lighting up with unadulterated joy at her admission. She leaned in and kissed him, slid her lips over his smile, deliberate in the way she sought his mouth, and it was no longer rushed at all.
It was slow, exultant worship. She stripped him of his shirt and boxers, revealing his body to her eyes, her lips, her fingertips. He peeled the clothes off her body, devoted himself to every fleck of her skin. Her heart was racing, her nerves sensitized to every caress, the kisses from his lips and the strokes of his tongue, the scrape of teeth against skin.
He paused between her breasts, paid hushed homage to her scar, and to her heart that beat beneath her ribs with reckless abandon.
He settled above her, and all of her opened up beneath him, body and soul, welcoming him inside. She was grounded by his warmth and weight, and yet soaring high, unearthed by the love between them, a Möbius strip with no beginning and no end, a universe unto its own, inevitable, eternal.
Finally, she was home.
